


Time Warp

by nomdeplume13



Series: Home in Motion Universe [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Rocky Horror Picture Show - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:42:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomdeplume13/pseuds/nomdeplume13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel decides he needs some trick-or-treating with his nephew Johnny, but that requires sending his brother and for-all-intents-and-purposes brother-in-law (along with a few others) somewhere out of reach for a few hours. Dean isn't pleased, at least at first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's Astounding

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it didn't take me long to start playing in the Home in Motion sandbox. For those who haven't read the story, there are some mentions to things that happened in Home in Motion, largely that Dean and Cas are in a relationship and have adopted a little boy named Johnny who was born without his left hand. Gabriel is alive and has been working to get Meg to switch sides, Death has an alternate identity as the angel of death Azrael, Cas is now an archangel, and Sam has a girlfriend named Emma.
> 
> This picks up just months after the close of Home in Motion, right at Halloween 2012.
> 
> Also, feel free to send me suggestions for sequels here or on my tumblr account: nomdeplume1313.

" _I would like, if I may, to take you on a strange journey."_

Castiel knew he should not complain about the gift his Father gave him, becoming an archangel. He enjoyed the "perks" and the added power now that he had more control of it, but he honestly and truly wished his Father had made him more powerful than Gabriel. Today, he very nearly cursed his father for that.

The day had started out simple enough. Dean was picking up parts for his latest projects—one a small job on an old car for a teenaged driver the other repairing and improving upon a small, plastic, electric car for Johnny—at the nearby auto parts store. Castiel was at the public library with Johnny for Toddler Time. The room was small, and Castiel tended to make the other parents uncomfortable because they thought him "strange," not to mention a few weren't entirely comfortable that he was in a relationship with someone who was a man. This meant he browsed the shelves near the room along with a few of the older children's parents. Johnny, thankfully, had Fallyn there to distract him from his Taddy's absence.

"It's good that you don't have hover like some of the mother hens in there," Dr. Kofi Diallo said as he stood next to Castiel. Fallyn's father spoke in soothing tones, his west African accent quite pleasing to the angel's ears. "It will make your Johnny a strong young man. Though preferably with a little less strength than Fallyn." He chuckled. "That little one is far too opinionated for her own good." Fallyn had, in fact, told her father to go find something to read; she didn't need him during  _her_  reading time.

Castiel could sense enough from the man to know that while the doctor wished to encourage her, his family traditions would have preferred his daughter to be a little more demur and a little less commanding. It had been one of the biggest factors in his divorce from Ramona, and he genuinely feared it would cause conflict in his relationship with Fallyn one day. The angel greatly respected that he was at least aware of his internal distress and wished to change it.

"She is a pleasant child," Castiel said. "And well aware of what she wants."

"What she wants is to go to school next year with her cousins, but with her October birthday, it will take some convincing to get the school to let her in." The man shook his head as he pulled a book off the shelf and glanced at the back cover. "Do you know what she told me? She was only 'okay' with the late start because it meant she might get to hang out with Johnny. I am quite worried your son has already managed to charm my daughter."

Though the angel was aware their children were soulmates and had the potential to become romantic partners one day, he also knew he couldn't tell that to the girl's father. "He managed to charm me."

Kofi laughed. "That's right. I forget sometimes that you and Dean were not in a relationship before Johnny was born. You behave like an old married couple."

"We  _were_  friends for years before. That is likely why."

Castiel did not have time to respond before the door to the reading room opened and the children with parents had begun to flood out. The angel began scanning the area for the little boy's black sweatsuit and its bright orange pumpkin-the only recognition of Halloween that would be happening this year, as he was too young to want to trick-or-treat for himself and Samhain has largely ruined the traditions for the Winchester brothers. Castiel and Kofi walked toward the room only to find the librarian looking at Castiel with a mix of surprise and confusion.

"Johnny's Uncle Gabriel came," she stated simply as she sat licking an absurdly large sucker. Castiel assumed Gabriel had used the sweet as a sort of bribe.

"He told me that you had asked him to pick Johnny up. Fallyn recognized him," the librarian said.

They hadn't been far from the door and should have been able to easily see it, but Gabriel had tricked them somehow, snuck in, used an illusion, it didn't matter. What  _did_  matter was that Castiel couldn't track him or even sense where he was.

He was going to kill his brother.

#

Dean was leaning against the counter while Frank went to get his car parts. Colton, who had a T-bird Dean would love to get under, was standing there, making small talk while he waited for a few parts for his own car. Sadly, Colton did all his own work to the car, meaning he had very little need for Dean's services.

"So, um, you and Singer's kid..." Dean raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure where this was leading. As far as towns—or cities, depending on your definition—in South Dakota went, Sioux Falls was relatively liberal, but this  _was_  still South Dakota.

"Yeah..."

"You just aren't what I would expect in a..." Colton was obviously trying very hard not to say something offensive, and Dean could at least give him credit for that. "In a gay guy. That Castiel..." He horribly mispronounced Castiel, and Dean corrected him. "Yeah. Castiel, he's got to be the girl in the relationship, right?"

Frank was within earshot and in Dean's field of vision and the hunter could see the forty-something parts dealer lean his forehead against shelf in front of him. If he'd been near a desk or table, he'd have probably smacked his forehead off of it at the ridiculousness of the question. Dean though, he was trying to show a little patience. Castiel had pointed out once, that there is often a difference between a person who doesn't approve of a certain lifestyle and the person who doesn't understand. Maybe Colton was in the former, but Dean was going to hope for the latter.

"I'm pretty sure you don't want details of our bedroom," Dean said, watching as the other man sputtered. "But, no, not really. We share things around the house. I cook, he cleans, but so do Bobby and Sam. It's a crowded house. We all kind of do our thing." He handed over his bank card—with his actual name on it and everything; that wouldn't ever  _not_  be weird—to Frank. "And he's not the kind of guy you want to underestimate. He looks like a little dude, but he's strong."

Even though Jimmy had been kind of wiry, over the last two months, Cas had taken to wearing the amulet that dampened his powers and working out with Dean and Sam. He wanted his body well trained with or without his mojo. He was doing a damned good job at building up muscle, and, if Dean got to see him all sweaty and working out, well, the hunter wasn't complaining.

Dean signed  _his_  name to the receipt and took the box of parts from Frank as Cas came into the shop, making the tiny little bell atop the door ring. The hunter nearly made a joke about an angel getting his wings, except he realized that Cas didn't have Johnny with him, and he looked panicked. He, thankfully, had enough foresight to set the box on the counter as he walked over to his partner. "Cas? What is it? Where's Johnny?"

"My brother..." Cas's voice was irritated, not so much the panic that Dean could still see on his features, meaning the angel wasn't talking about  _that_  brother. "...he thought it would be a good idea to spend some time with his nephew, and he snatched him out from under my nose at Toddler Time."

"Which brother?" Balthazar, they could summon; Metatron was a sort of adopted brother and Cas didn't really call him one; he usually stuck with "sister" when talking about Azrael, because the angel didn't know about her being Death in freaking disguise. But, Dean already knew who it had to be.

"It was Gabriel," Cas said. Of course it was. Dean waved a quick goodbye to the men in the shop and left with Cas at his side. They were going to start having discussions that would go over the other men's heads, or that might possibly confuse them worse than they already were.

"I'm going to kill him," Dean said. "We need to get Sam and Emma on the phone, Bobby and Jody, and you get in touch with Balthazar and Metatron. I'll give Azrael a call—"

And before Dean could finish the sentence, he felt the pull of angel express taking him somewhere against his will. When he landed wherever he was, he would have fallen flat on his face if it hadn't been for Cas's quick catch.

The angel looked up at Dean, blue eyes curious behind a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. He had to tilt his head up further than usual; Dean was much taller than he used to be. He could feel the angel supporting Dean's weight, muscles straining and twitching; no mojo, then, because Cas could easily handle Dean's weight and then some most of the time. Dean couldn't help but notice that his feet were uncomfortable, tilted, but he tried not to focus on why. His body was definitely chillier than it should have been in the jeans, flannel shirt and a coat that he'd been wearing when he stepped out of the auto parts store. Again, he tried so hard not to think of the why.

Cas was shirtless; Dean could see that and feel that. He looked down at his own hand on the angel's shoulder, almost fearing as he was putting all of this together that he'd find his nails painted, but they weren't. He was, however, wearing a pair of fingerless gloves. Kind of black and silver things that went up his forearms to his elbows.  _Fuck_.

"Dean..." Cas said, moving fingers to Dean's lips. He pulled them back and looked curiously at the digits. "It didn't come off."

It took only moments for Dean to realize what Cas meant by that. "I have lipstick on?" he asked, a dread pooling in his gut as he glanced around at the other people in the lobby of what looked to be a movie theater. Cas nodded.

Though he knew he should focus on what he was wearing, but he was desperate to delay the inevitable. Cas was wearing a pair of tighty whiteys, but they were an old style, freaking huge, even though Dean was pretty sure they fit his partner the way they were supposed to. Normally, Dean would be happy to appreciate an opportunity to see the angel shirtless, but the lingering fear being realized with each pass of his eyes over Cas's skin dampened the mood. Cas wore white socks and black dress shoes.

And when he saw Cas's shoes, there was no denying what was on his own feet. He was in a pair of black heels with a strap at the top. He had on black hose, and as his eyes moved upward, he saw garters, black women's underwear, and a black corset-vest-thing. The son of a bitch had even shaved his legs. He was going to kill Gabriel.

One hand tentatively reached up to his hair, covered by a curly wig that didn't seem to be budging. It slid down to his face, where he could feel a layer of powdery stuff on his cheeks, his eyelashes had gunk—mascara-on them, and his lips felt glossy. But, as Cas had noted earlier, none of it was coming off.

"GABRIEL!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Almost simultaneously, he heard an angry "Goddamn it Gabriel!" and an amused "Bloody fucking Gabriel" from opposite sides of the room.

From his new height, Dean was able to spot who he thought was his brother, though he looked like he was wearing a short blond wig and about as much clothing as Cas. Emma had fared better, with a cardigan and dress. Sam didn't seem to spot Dean, though she did; her face gave just a momentary look of surprise, and then quickly steeled itself. She began guiding a fuming Sam over to Dean and Cas, and in that moment, the hunter had to decide whether or not he let his brother see him like this, and he didn't have long to come to that decision.

He felt Cas's bare arm wrap around his waist and he glanced down to see those big blue eyes looking up at him earnestly. Dean didn't know what it was about those glasses, but they made the angel look freaking young. And kind of sexy.

"Dr. Frank N Furter, I presume," said a voice behind him. Dean turned to find Balthazar wearing something that looked like it was made entirely of glitter and sequences, not to mention, it was definitely not made with men in mind, though he was one to talk at that moment. Balthazar was Columbia, his memory supplied, which made Metatron a very pissy looking Riff Raff. "How are you doing in the heels? I don't know if those were really designed for legs as bowed as yours."

"You don't exactly look like you're struggling in yours," Dean noted as he continued to lean on Cas.

"I'm an angel, Dean. I haven't always had a male vessel." Balthazar waved a hand over the glittery get-up. "And this is nothing compared to the layers of stuff those poor Victorian women had to wear."

Any opportunity to flee left Dean's mind as his brother snorted in barely contained laughter. "Dean, is that you?"

"Fuck you all," Dean swore.


	2. Madness Takes Its Toll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The show is about to begin.

" _A mental mind fuck can be nice."_

Gabriel shifted Johnny in his arms. The angel had tried to make his nephew Batman, but the boy had wanted nothing to do with the mask, so where Batman and Robin wouldn't work, Thor and Loki would. In fact, they were probably far more fitting. Johnny didn't seem to have a problem with the new get-up, though Gabriel had opted to keep the boy happy and not include a wig. He seemed relatively content at the moment, gnawing on the handle of his hammer.

"Ready to see your fathers before we go trick or treating?" the angel asked.

Johnny looked up at him and smiled.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"We're going to get so much candy. It'll be awesome." It wasn't like Gabriel hadn't done trick or treating before. After all, it combined his two favorite things. However, he suspected now that he had a little kid with him, there would be fewer tricks and far more treats, and after spending a full month in TV land convincing Meg to give him her amulet, he was feeling tricked out. (Though, sending the merry men and Emma to a midnight showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show had been fun.)

Gabriel slid Johnny into his specially designed stroller made to look like a chariot. As an added bonus, he'd included stuffed figures of the other Avengers. The little boy immediately swapped his hammer for the Hulk, chewing on the green guy's head. "That's right. Get him back for smacking us both around, Little Thor." Those big green eyes looked up at him, and damn it if he didn't understand why Castiel had taken him from his worthless mother. Gabriel gently ran one of his wings across the boy's cheek and watched him close his eyes and lean into the touch. Definitely a special little dude. "We're going to pay your dads a visit so they know you're okay. Then, we'll go hit the town. Or towns, rather."

"Gay!" Johnny exclaimed with a big grin.

"I will be so glad when you can pronounce my whole name, kiddo," the archangel said before snapping his fingers and sending them both to their extended family.

He appeared in the lobby of the movie theater where he'd sent the Winchester brood. Bobby had been left behind because he was with Jody monitoring the trick-or-treaters in Sioux Falls that night, and that was an important job. Gabriel was also surprisingly intimidated by the overtly parental tone the two could take toward young men and ancient beings alike. While it had never been directed at him, he had seen it laid on Castiel and the Winchesters, and he wasn't anxious to experience that for himself. He thought it best to leave them where they were, even if it meant being short a Doctor Scott and a Magenta.

Gabriel was hit hard by a burning at his chest where Meg's amulet rested. She hadn't shown any sign she was in pain when she'd worn it around Sam. Perhaps it got him worse because he was an archangel or because the connection Sam had to Lucifer was somehow stronger or perhaps as a demon she was used to fire. It could have been any of those. For the time being, he would keep hoping the wall in Sam's mind held. As long as it did, this wouldn't be a problem, but Gabriel knew he'd wear the necklace and pay regular visits just to be sure.

Though he hadn't intended to laugh when he saw the motley crew all dressed up in their Rocky Horror gear because he actually  _didn't_  want to rub salt in the wound, Johnny's deep belly laughter was infectious.

It wasn't Emma that made him laugh. He had been sure that she would look relatively normal; Gabriel knew of her history and the last thing he wanted to do was abduct her and leave her wearing only a bra, panties and a slip. The abduction was violation enough in itself, so he hadn't even changed her hair color.

The rest, though, would supply chuckles for decades at least. Gabriel had made them each resemble the characters as much as possible. Metatron had received a cap that made his hair look as though it was thinning and he was blond; the Middle Eastern man really wasn't intended to be a blond. Cas had needed stripped to underwear and was given a pair of glasses. Balthazar had been shaved on his face and legs and given a bright red wig. He was looking surprisingly at ease with the whole scenario. Sam, however, looked far angrier than someone in a pair of gold underwear really should have been able to, and Gabriel was glad that his powers were keeping them all in place.

Dean, though, looked a surprising mix of royally pissed and kind of pretty.

"I'm going to kill you," Dean said. "If you've hurt Johnny—"

Grabbing his chest as though wounded, and perhaps feeling a bit insulted by the insinuation, Gabriel said, "I would never. He's my nephew. And we're going to go trick or treating." He adjusted his horned helmet. "I just wanted you to see he's fine and to tell you guys to just enjoy yourselves for the evening. Sam's been stressing over the LSATs, Emma has been working on a massive jewelry order, Dean and Cas have been busy parents-slash-hunters-slash-mechanic-and-archangel . It's a well deserved night off. You should be appreciative. I had to take you a few hours into the future to make this happen."

"And the candy and pranks have nothing to do with it?" Sam asked, sounding irritated.

"Put the bitchface away, Sammy. Yes. Those are a perk, but this is about fun. And besides, I think Cas will thank me before the night is over." Oh, yes, he was well aware of Rhonda Hurley, and when Dean gave him a panicked look, he responded with a smirk that let Dean know he knew. "Have fun!"

And with another snap of his fingers, he and Johnny were gone.

#

"Oh my God," said a woman dressed similarly to Balthazar, dragging a woman in a French maid costume behind her. "We've got a Rocky. We've actually got a Rocky!"

Castiel looked around for this Rocky, but saw no one in particular responding. He then wondered if perhaps one of the group was dressed as the character as Johnny had been dressed as the man from the movie. "Oh..." the maid said when she spotted Dean, almost as though her breath had been knocked out of her. While the angel had found his lover's appearance intriguing like this, it did not have the impact on him that it visibly had on this woman.

"Could we get a picture with you?" they asked Sam first—and perhaps for good reason. There did not seem to be many men dressed like him in the lobby at the moment, and none of his build. The maid was waving Dean over as well. Reluctantly, both brothers agreed, and though his powers were dampened, Castiel could practically hear Dean's prayer that this picture never surfaced around anyone who knew who he was.

Emma happily took the photo of the four; of all of them, she seemed the most comfortable by the entire situation. Castiel thought it was only partly due to her greater amount of clothing. He suspected this wasn't the first time she had been to an event like this.

The maid took back her camera and looked at Dean with something akin to awe. Castiel found it interesting that she was so visibly lusting for him dressed as he was. The angel was accustomed to the looks of women, and occasionally men, when Dean was wearing his normal attire. He was familiar with the way excessive shows of Dean's masculinity attracted sexual interest in others, in himself as well. What he had not expected was the looks on these women's faces as they looked at Dean in feminine attire, with makeup emphasizing the soft curve of his lips and his entire posture transformed by the heeled shoes.

They looked like they wanted to devour him, and it sparked a not unfamiliar feeling in the angel's chest: jealousy.

"Could you pose together? Like him flexing and you feeling?" the woman in sequins said.

"Or give him a kiss?" the maid asked.

Dean's face immediately screwed up in distaste, while Sam was shaking his head and laughing. The ridiculousness of the situation certainly seemed to be affecting him. No longer did he look severely put out, but instead highly amused. The older brother, though, was still irritated.

"Really? You came to the Rocky Horror Picture Show and you can't give another man a kiss?" the maid asked, directing all of her irritation at Dean. Apparently, he was not allowed to destroy the fantasy she had of him in her mind.

Sam barked in laughter. "Trust me. He doesn't have an issue with it. Ask Brad, there." He pointed in Castiel's direction. Apparently, Castiel was dressed as this Brad person. "We're brothers."

Both women apologized profusely for the assumption, as Dean walked very slowly and carefully over to the angel. Immediately, Castiel extended an arm and wrapped it around Dean's waist to support him. "Should we try the doors?" the angel asked.

"We should, but he's probably thought of that." Castiel agreed on both counts. Together, they watched as Metatron charged ahead. Castiel did not know if the other angel had heard their discussion or was just angry enough on his own to head for the exit. Unfortunately, Dean had been right; it was pointless. The normally dark-haired angel was thrown backwards into a crowd of other people dressed as he was and became part of a "photo op."

"Well, so much for that," Dean said.

Castiel was still very nervous at being kept away from Johnny, but he did believe that his brother would do everything he could to keep the baby safe. Focusing on that while he was powerless was not going to help. What he  _could_  focus on was Dean, who was trying to blend in, trying to look comfortable, when he was obviously—at least to anyone who knew him—uneasy.

"I suppose we should try to enjoy ourselves?" the angel asked.

"Guess so," Dean said, sounding more like he was a young boy trying to prepare for something he did not want to do than a grown man saying they should have a little fun. "It's probably too much to hope for that the bastard didn't make the shoes as unremovable as the wig."

"We can try," the angel said. "There appears to be a bar here. Why don't you take a seat and I will try to get them off?"

"Hell, just a bar would help. I'm going to need to be very drunk."

"I am unsure how that will help you to walk in those shoes," Castiel said as he guided Dean over while the man pointed toward the bar to show Emma where they were going. Balthazar was busy attending to Metatron, but Castiel suspected they would find them easily enough. His younger brother rarely had trouble finding his way to a bar.

"The bar isn't for me to walk in the shoes," Dean said. "It's so that I can stand the fact I'm wearing this and can't get out of it for the next couple of hours."

"I am sorry that my brother is a dick."

"Me too, but it isn't your fault."

"Dean... we might have a problem getting a drink. I do not believe either of us have a way of storing money," he said as he guided his lover to the bar.

"It's an open bar," the man behind the bar said. He was wearing a white t-shirt and leather vest. He looked like something out of the movie Grease that Emma had convinced the angel to watch.

"That is the best thing I have heard tonight," Dean said. "Can I get a whiskey straight?"

The bartender seemed surprised at the request, perhaps because there seemed to be certain expectations of someone who was dressed as Dean was now, or perhaps because "We only have special drinks for the night."

"Just give me whatever is strongest, and if it's fruity, let it be fruit liquor.

"Gotcha," the man said as Castiel knelt at Dean's feet, trying not to think how odd the man's legs looked both hairless and in the stockings. A tug on the shoes and attempts to undo the buckles proved they were not moving, but as he stood, the angel was able to note the way the clothing clung to Dean's body and how Dean unconsciously seemed to hold himself differently.

A man who was normally more comfortable sitting with his legs spread kept them closer together, probably a protective act, given how little he was wearing and how uncomfortable it made him. His arms were also held close to his body, and Castiel suspected that Dean might well have wrapped them around himself if that wasn't so against his nature. The black panties left little to the imagination, and the shirt-corset article of clothing actually de-emphasized Dean's broad shoulders. He looked smaller somehow, though physically, there was no actual change.

All around them, men and women were dressed similarly to his lover, but they were brazen and flamboyant, quick to touch and stroke and press against others. They were not painfully awkward, seeking a bit of "liquid courage" to get through the night.

Castiel watched Dean's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed a gelatin concoction that surely must have contained a large amount of alcohol. He followed the column of Dean's throat above the fake pearl necklace and watched as bright red lips wrapped around a small plastic cup while he jerked his head back quickly to force the mixture into his mouth. A pink tongue swirled about to loosen the gelatin hat remained stuck, and finally, it fell into his awaiting mouth.

Dean was, frankly, beautiful like this, but the angel typically found his partner handsome, even beautiful, every day. He thought carefully about the reason for Dean's draw to him right now. It was not the clothing or the make-up. In many ways, Castiel felt the same lust, the same attraction that was always present. But it was also combined with a desire to wipe away a bit of that vulnerability and discomfort.

"You're staring," Dean said, "even for you. Got a kink for me in a pair of garters?"

"I have a kink for you. Period." Castiel was not attempting to flirt, though he recognized that he could have placed a more flirtatious tone on his words, but only after they had already left his mouth.

The look Dean gave him was good enough. Apparently brutal honesty was better than a pick-up line. Castiel very nearly surged forward and kissed that expression of disbelief from Dean's face, but it was at that moment that Sam and Emma approached, and he could see Balthazar and Metatron trailing behind.

"You're going to need a bag," Emma said, offering one to Dean and one to Castiel. "They were handing these out. Apparently, they go along with the ticket price."

"They're not the only thing," Dean said, grabbing another of the small cups. "Open bar."

"Oh thank God," Sam said, and he sounded so grateful that if Castiel had not known the brothers' propensity for blasphemy, he might have actually believed it to be a prayer.

While the two brothers began availing themselves of the bar and Castiel's brothers joined them, Emma pulled him aside. "Have you ever heard of this show before?" she asked as he looked in a bag that seemed to have toast, a noisemaker, confetti, a newspaper, and a water gun among other things.

"No," he said. "I think I am dressed as Brad, but I only know that because of Sam."

"You are Brad. And I'm Janet. It's kind of a wild show, and if this is the first time you've seen it, you're going to get a whole crazy experience, with junk being thrown, people yelling at the screen... So, if you need help with what you should do when, let me know."

Castiel thanked her as two people in tuxedos wearing party hats approached. "Can we get a picture of the happy couple?" the woman asked, pulling out her phone from the inner pocket of the coat.

"But they don't match. What happened there?" the man asked.

"Miscommunication when we left the house," Emma said, taking Castiel's hand in her own.

"It wouldn't take much to get you to match, though. Right?" the man asked, grabbing at the edge of the white cardigan Emma was wearing. Castiel was not sure if he reacted before or after he registered the quick moment of panic in her eyes, but it was there and he  _did_  grab the stranger's wrist.

"She's fine as she is." Castiel's powers may have been dampened, but he was fairly certain he squeezed the man's wrist with more strength than a normal human could have managed, but he was growing rather protective of Sam's girlfriend.

"I think it would be best for you if you took your hands off of me," she said. "Unless you want to tell people that Janet Weiss kicked your ass." The man retreated quickly. "Learn not to be a neanderthal."

"That's actually quite insulting to the neanderthals," Castiel said as the couple walked away in a huff. Emma laughed, then realized that he was being serious. "They wrote beautiful poetry."

She laughed again and patted him on his oddly clean-shaven cheek. "You're adorable. And thank you for coming to my defense."

"Of course, though you sounded capable of standing up to them," he said. They looked back at the brothers, who were once again being asked to pose for a photo. Castiel wasn't sure what one of the men was saying to Dean, but even from where he stood, he could see the man's ears turning red.

#

Sam wasn't exactly loving all of the attention he was getting as Rocky, but he could admit that Dean had it much, much worse. But then, one of the women asked something that threw Sam entirely. "Are you two virgins?"

"What? No!" Sam responded immediately. His response was apparently telling. This was Rocky Horror. He should have assumed that virgin did not necessarily relate to sex. Because, here, everything  _else_  already related to it.

"I don't know about him," Dean said, "but this isn't my first rodeo." Sam looked to his brother in confusion. "They want to know if you've ever been to a midnight showing before. Seeing the show on late night TV doesn't count."

"Oh!" Balthazar chimed in from behind Dean. "Does that mean I have a new virginity to lose? That's fantastic. Virgins here, both of us." He gestured to himself and Metatron, who was doing his very best impression of Bobby at his surliest.

"You've been to a midnight showing before?" Sam asked, dumbfounded. This hadn't been Jess's sort of thing, and before they'd started dating, he'd worked and studied to much to be bothered.

"Dude, I saw women walking around dressed like..." Dean looked down at his costume. "Well, dressed like me. Of  _course_  I wanted in on that."

"I can't believe you've never been before," Emma said to Sam. "Man, freshman and sophomore year, I came."

"He didn't take advantage of his college years," Dean said as he made eye contact with the bartender, pointed to the tall, bloody looking drink that Metatron had been plowing through for the last ten minutes, and raised a finger to indicate he wanted one. "He never listened to Dark Side of the Moon with Wizard of Oz, either. I don't think he ever visited Haight-Ashbury the whole time he was in San Francisco."

"I  _did_. I just didn't have the extra cash for a pot habit," Sam replied. Dean was laughing, a sure sign that he'd had enough alcohol to make him a little less self conscious.

"We've got some virgins here!" one of the three corseted women who had been taking their picture yelled and suddenly at least five people surrounded them with red lipstick at the ready.

Balthazar raised his hand and lifted Metatron's a la the winner of a boxing match. A woman who had appeared at Sam's right was looking around for another "virgin," only to have the people who had been asking for Sam's photos point him out.

"I am not a virgin," Cas said, sounding confident in that fact, but also confused. "Tell them that." That second statement was directed entirely at Dean, and Sam swore he heard a few women around them make a little squealing noise, one a little "aww," in response.

"You've never seen the show before, Sweetie," Emma said. "That makes you a Rocky Horror virgin."

Suddenly, someone was drawing a V on Cas's forehead in lipstick, while Balthazar and Metatron likewise sported their own Vs. The woman at Sam's side was curling her finger, asking him to bend down so that he, too, could have a bright red V on his forehead. Realizing it was pointless to fight, Sam complied.

"This is going to be fun," the short woman said while she applied the lipstick to the hunter's forehead. Sam really hoped so.


	3. I've Got to Keep Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The "virgins" are hazed.

_"I see you shiver with antici... pation."_

Dean didn't want to admit that he was getting better in the heels, but unfortunately, he was. He had found his center of balance; ironic, considering the amount of alcohol he'd had already. Ever since Cas opened his mouth about his virginity, he and his partner had been swarmed by woman oddly interested in their relationship.

He blamed it all on the angel's damned blue eyes, how he looked just a little lost, just a little turned on, and far too innocent for someone who was older than ten. Cas had been happy to comply with each request for them to hug or kiss, even to kneel at Dean's feet as though he was worshiping him. To Dean's surprise, though Cas spent most of his time looking like a deer caught in headlights, he seemed to be doing his best to play along when asked to pose for photos with anyone from their group, many with Emma—who was an odd mix of evil and cute with her big brown eyes, Sunday best clothing, and complete and utter enjoyment of this whole situation. Occasionally, someone they didn't know would want a picture with Cas, and he would be good-natured about it, though careful where he touched or was touched.

Cas was much less retrained with Dean. That wasn't a surprise. He rarely needed any encouragement to invade the hunter's personal space, or to touch or kiss or even hang off of the hunter, and he was getting plenty of encouragement. For his part, the hunter was trying to play along, but he had drawn the line at sitting in the angel's lap. He also kept it brotherly whenever he was asked to pose with Sam or Balthazar, even more careful when someone he didn't know wanted a picture with him. Not only because he wasn't exceptionally comfortable, but because he was seriously pissed.

Balthazar was eating the whole thing up. He posed with anyone and in any position they wanted. It wasn't helping Metatron's mood—Dean guessed jealousy, though they hadn't made their thing official in any way, so it was best to assume they were still just friends with benefits. Really, Dean was a little surprised by the former human. He simply wasn't cooperating at all, and while it meant the hunter had no worries of doing anything odd with him, it was definitely bugging the hell out of Balthazar that he was being rebuffed. Typically, Metatron had a good sense of humor, especially when his partner in crime was enjoying himself, but it sounded like this was just the last straw.

"I was bounced around in time over the course of millions of years so I could observe and document. I have been at the beck and call of angels since before I became one. And I can't have just a minute bit of power to keep that idiot from sending me wherever he decides to on a lark?" the former human said to no one in particular.

"Sometimes, you just have to pick your battles," Dean said, even though he knew the other man hadn't been speaking to him.

Metatron gave him a long look over the length of his body. "And that isn't one of those battles?"

"I'm more pissed off that he's got my son than he's got me in drag." He let out a sharp bark of laughter at himself. "Talk about priority shifting."

Dean watched as a man also dressed as Frank took Cas by the hand. "Come on, we're rounding up the virgins. There's a little hazing you have to do before you can join the rest of your group." Those big blue eyes searched for Dean, looking just a bit frightened as he was pulled away, and the hunter quickened his pace despite his shoes. Metatron was tugged along by Balthazar who was far too happy to be in this situation. Since the blond angel hadn't been completely oblivious to current events and popular topics, not to mention that he'd known Dr. Frank N. Furter's name, Dean had to suspect he at least knew the movie. Like the sexed-up horndog that he was, he probably loved it.

As he wobbled on the stupid heels, a slim arm wrapped around his waist. "Let's follow our men," Emma said while looking up at him with a cheeky grin.

#

Emma was torn. If Sam had suggested the idea of going to a midnight showing of Rocky Horror, she would have been all for the night but she was incredibly angry with Gabriel for forcing the night on them. She wanted Sam to be able to enjoy the whole spectacle; she wanted to have the option of leaving if they had to.

It was a startling reminder that in her relationship with Sam, she had found herself involved in a world of things much more powerful than anything she could have considered. Cas made it so easy to forget because he was so sweet and tried so hard to do most things the same way as a human. His one exception continued to be Johnny's diapers, and the woman couldn't really blame him on that count.

One of the very human things (though done in a very inhuman way) was a secret that only she knew, and it was killing her to keep it to herself. About a week ago, Cas had appeared at her shop with a small leather pouch full of tiny diamonds and asked her to incorporate them into a ring. She'd tried to explain she wasn't the most skilled at cutting, particularly something so small.

"No, please leave them uncut," he said. "I am not sure Dean will want a ring with diamonds as it is, but if they are rough, perhaps he will accept it. And silver, so the ring is also useful."

The noise she made at that might have been a squeal. "Are you going to propose?" she asked.

"No. He will... in a way. When he does, I wish to have a ring to give him as well. Is there a date when I can return to pick up the ring?"

"I would be designing it from scratch. It will probably take a few weeks." She spread the small, uncut diamonds on a piece of velvet. "Diamonds in the rough," she mused. "Sort of like Dean."

Cas smiled. "I will have to tell him that when I give it to him." He had unshed tears in his eyes, and Emma, though she did not know him as well as either Dean or Sam, could not recall seeing him so emotional."He will probably make fun of it; he does not like emotional displays." He wrung his hands as though he could not properly exude all of his nervous and happy energy. The movement drew Emma's attention to his left hand and the simple silver ring that rested there.

"November 20. I'll have it done by then. Will he have given you your ring by then?" she pointed to his left hand. He obviously realized he'd been caught and that she knew he wasn't the Cas that was today in Sioux Falls playing with Johnny waiting for Dean and Sam to come back from their first hunt since Sam retook the LSATs.

He shook his head. "No. It will be a few months."

She walked around the counter and gave him a hug and a kiss on his cheek. "Congratulations." She took his hand in hers and got a good look at the ring. It was a silver, single rail ring that looked to have tapered down to side rails on either edge. It looked battered and old, and its edge belied that its last owner may have used it to open a beer bottle or two, but it was untarnished, maintained in a very "man" way. "When you get this officially, bring it to be to get rid of any rough edges. I don't want you accidentally hurting Johnny with it."

"I'll do that. Please tell no one until then." He looked a little sheepish. "I should not be using my powers to travel back in time to give those to you."

"I think you're allowed. Your family uses their powers often enough for reasons that aren't half as good."

"This is very accurate," he said, then seemed to remember something. "On Halloween, I believe Sam is coming to visit. Don't bother to buy tickets to any events. You will be going somewhere else instead. And... I apologize now for Gabriel."

"You aren't going to tell me more than that?"

"I don't want Sam angry with you for not telling him."

Walking with Dean, it was difficult not to think of what the Cas from the future had told her. She seriously hoped that Dean didn't blame her for not telling him what she knew. She also made a note to ask Cas where the diamonds had come from when he returned to collect the ring in two weeks' time. She glanced over at Dean, wondering when the man would manage to propose to the angel and hoping he did it sooner rather than later.


	4. It's Just a Jump to the Left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel gets up to pranking and Dean and Cas get up to fun in the bathroom.

_"He'll do press-ups, and chin-ups. Do the snatch, clean and jerk. He thinks dynamic tension must be hard work."_

Gabriel grinned as he looked at the giant bag of candy in his hands. "We're bringing in quite the haul, little guy."

"Gay!" Johnny yelled.

"Yeah, yeah. Your Dad just loves that you call me that," he said. "Though he's the one dating someone with the same equipment as him." Johnny looked at him curiously as they headed for the next house, watching as a father and his daughters—one dressed as a ballerina and one dressed as a ninja—gave him and Johnny thumbs up for their costumes.

Together, they moved to the front door where a woman stood wearing a pair of black cat ears and painted nose and whiskers. "Trick or Treat!" Gabriel said, putting on his biggest, most charming smile. He saw the frown start. It wasn't the first time they'd come across it. Johnny was young, too young for a lot of the candy people were giving out, but thus far, Gabriel had managed to pass him off as a small two-year-old rather than a kid just a few months over one year old.

"Isn't he a bit young?"

"A bit, but I wasn't going to deny him a little fun because he's only two. And he's having a blast so far." He looked down at Johnny. "Aren't you, buddy?"

Johnny tilted his head back to look at Gabriel and grinned.

"He looks a little small for two," the woman said, obviously not buying it. "And I don't think I've ever seen you around town. That's why I hate we put our trick or treat times in the paper. People like you think you can hit multiple towns for more candy." She looked at the massive bag of candy they'd managed so far.

"Lady," Gabriel said, "I'm a grown adult." And then some. "If I wanted candy that bag, I'd buy a bag. That's cheaper than the gas to go from town to town." So, maybe he had gone from one town to another. She didn't need to assume that. "Other people just thought my nephew, mini-Thor, was so adorable, they gave a little more generously."

"You've got more than enough to satisfy your sweet tooth," she said as she started to close her door, and it was obvious the rest of her statement was meant for only her ears, but the door was still open just enough for Gabriel to hear. "I'm not going to give him candy that kids  _actually_  from this town deserve just because he showed up with a little retard."

Gabriel had long been punishing the smug assholes of the world, and on occasion, it was because they had slighted him in some way, though more often, it was because he saw them treat someone else unfairly. Never had he felt the sort of burning, righteous anger that he felt now. His days as Loki were coming back fast and strong, and he was murderous.

He smacked his hand at the door, keeping her from closing it. "I don't think you heard me the first time," he said. "I said, 'Trick or treat.'"

"Get away from my door!" the woman yelled, trying to shut it.

"You didn't give me a treat, so I'm going to assume you picked trick," he looked down at his nephew. "Can you say trick, Johnny-boy?"

"Tick!" Johnny exclaimed—though it sounded a bit like tit, and Gabriel was nearly as pleased as the first time he'd shouted out "Gay."

"That's right. Trick time, and lady, you've just ticked off the king of the Tricksters." He saw she was fumbling by her door for something, which she quickly pulled out and started to spray in Gabriel's face with complete disregard for Johnny standing at his side. He tried not to let this make his anger worse, since she looked legitimately frightened and he was legitimately threatening at this point. She couldn't do anything to him and thankfully didn't hurt Johnny, as the pepper spray hit his wings and momentarily revealed their outline as they protected the boy.

With a snap of his fingers, he, Johnny and the woman were all transported inside her home where her husband was charging down the stairs, having heard her shouting. Gabriel snapped his fingers again, freezing him on he steps.

"What are you?"

"I have so many names, but let's just call me Loki. It's fitting enough, since I'm acting more as a trickster tonight." He tried not to grin, but it didn't work. "Do you know it's been two  _years_  since I got to play a good prank to bring justice to bullies like you? I've been clean for more than two years now, but lady, you've just made sure I fall off the wagon. And you're so going to regret it."

#

Dean glanced over at Cas and saw him pouting as the people in the audience once again yelled "Asshole!" after Brad said his name. It was funny to see Cas give that constipated expression as he stood underneath of an unfolded newspaper. Usually, the hunter was on the receiving end of that look.

"They're not calling you an asshole, you know," Dean said from beneath his own.

"I  _know_  that," Cas said, "but he doesn't seem like such a horrible guy. Just naïve."

Dean wrapped his arm around Cas's shoulders and kissed his temple. "It's just a movie, and he is a little bit of an uptight asshole in the beginning. He hasn't met Frank yet, but he's about to."

"So... Brad, my character, is an uptight man who meets Frank, your character, and he becomes less so." The hunter smirked at the relevance, but nodded.

"Get ready to dance," Dean told Cas, and honestly, the angel looked more panicked by that than he had by Chastity in the brothel. "You'll get instructions, and at least you're not wearing heels or really fucking drunk."

"The second part of that is your own fault."

The music began, and Dean felt a hand actually seeking out his own. He didn't know if Cas wanted support or was offering it to the drunk man in heels, he didn't know, but it was one of those things that made his chest feel warm and content. After a minute of figuring out which fingers went where in the dark, they threaded them together and waited to begin the dance.

"It's just a jump to the left!" the criminologist on the screen said, and the entire theater obeyed, though Dean was careful not to risk his neck too much with the heels. He glanced at Cas, who looked like he was trying to pass some sort of test; Sam had probably looked less serious taking the LSAT.

"And then a step to the right."

"That's more than one step," Cas said perhaps too loudly.

"Put your hands on your hips." They only managed one hand because Cas was  _not_  letting go of Dean's hand. "And pull your knees in tight." With his bow legs, Dean knew that wasn't happening, but the angel beside him was doing his very best to mimic the movements on the screen. Not really a dancer unless he was drunk, and definitely not a choreographed dancer, the hunter found himself just watching as Cas rigidly but perfectly copied the moves on the screen, including the pelvic thrusting and movements of whatever character was being featured at that moment.

Maybe it was the ridiculousness of the angel's seriousness while standing in those underwear. Maybe it was how on-beat but how stiffly he was dancing. Maybe it was the large amount of alcohol that he'd had to drink just to get to this point. Whatever the reason, Dean absolutely lost it. He started laughing so hard that he had to lean on the seat in front of him, then collapse back onto his own seat.

He knew everyone around him was staring, but he didn't care. He just tried to calm himself so they didn't get thrown out. He wasn't really sure what they would do to someone who disrupted the movie, after seeing what they did to the people who wanted to see it for the first time. Dean chanced a look at Cas to see if he was irritated with the laugher. Instead, he found his angel smiling broadly at him. Cas sat down, putting his hand over Dean's as he leaned over to kiss him softly. "I like seeing you this happy," he said just loudly enough for Dean to hear.

Then, Tim Curry came on the screen, demanding the audience's attention, though the hunter couldn't help but notice Cas looking over at him, as though he was getting some very not-for-public-consumption ideas based on the character's boldness and Dean's own matching costume. The man couldn't really deny that most of the evening, he'd been getting flashbacks to Rhonda Hurley, but he'd had distractions then, embarrassment then. And Cas sure as hell hadn't been giving him  _that_  look, either.

"You're giving me ideas, you know. Not for nothing, Cas," he said, unable to help himself, "but the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid."

Rather than the angry glare he'd gotten the first time he'd said that, Dean found the angel smirking at him, then kissing him within an inch of his life.

#

Meatloaf had already made his appearance and met his end before Sam realized that Dean and Cas weren't participating in the shouts at the screen and hadn't been for God only knew how long. Though Metatron seemed to be getting into the spirit of things, at the end of the movie, Cas might as well still be a "virgin" because he and Dean were too busy trying to eat one another's faces like a couple of teenagers. They were quiet, but they were still attracting notice and all kinds of interest from the people around them.

It made Sam wonder if Gabriel had spiked Dean's drinks with more than alcohol because he wasn't all that big on PDAs, and he hadn't exactly been all on board with the show and the costume either. Of course, something about this could have set off some unnamed—and God help him, please, always and forever unvoiced—kink in them both.

The next thing Sam knew, Dean was leaning close to Cas's ear and then standing. He was wobbling in the heels and his posture was strange, but he made it through the throng of movie-watchers without much trouble. Leaning over Emma, who didn't even bother to try to pretend her attention was still on the movie after this recent development, Sam asked a very bereft-looking Cas "Is Dean okay?"

Cas was frowning. "He went to the bathroom and told me to wait five minutes before I go to see how he's doing."

Sam groaned, and he was certain Emma was laughing quietly.

"What? Does that mean something?" Cas asked.

"He's inviting you to have sex in the bathroom," Sam said, but Cas obviously didn't hear him at that moment. "It means you're going to have sex!" he repeated much too loudly. The entire audience began to laugh because—as Sam happened to notice—the scene with Brand and Frank in bed together was larger than life in front of them. His timing couldn't have been better.

Emma's quiet, shoulder-shaking chuckles had transformed into guffaws that made her throw her head back and whole body shake. Even Metatron was laughing because, though he was at the far end of the aisle, he was smart enough to realize Sam hadn't been talking to the characters on the screen. Balthazar was perceptive, too, and he was now giving Cas a big thumbs up. Cas, though, looked like he could barely contain himself to give Dean the few minutes he'd asked for before charging out of the theater and heading for the bathroom.

#

"What you you going to do to me?" the woman asked, her voice trembling in fear.

"See, that's the thing," Gabriel said. "I usually make the punishment fit the crime, but I'm not above just ridding the world of the bullies of this world. I've had people eaten by crocodiles, electrocuted, hit by cars, abducted by aliens, thrown out of buildings..." Then, Johnny began to whimper. He was scaring the poor kid.

"Be happy he's here. He might have a physical handicap, but he knows how dangerous I am right now. And because he's here, you won't die from what I'm about to do to you, but you may wish I had." He looked up at the man on the stairs, frozen in place. He wasn't perfect, but he didn't deserve the fallout of Gabriel's wrath. So, he chose to make this as temporary as possible, but still a learning experience. "You are going to donate regularly to the Special Olympics, and it will be a reoccurring deduction that you can't stop. Now, you're about to be in excruciating pain, but you won't die. It  _will_  give you a taste of what it's like for people you might label as a retard. And I hope it's enough of a deterrent this once, because every time you utter that word or even think of bullying someone, you will get to go through this again."

Gabriel pushed Johnny out of the house as the woman collapsed on the floor with the worst migraine of her life. She would spend the next 24 hours making no sense and not thinking straight. The doctor wouldn't recognize it right away, nor would the doctor realize it immediately if she ever went back.

"Okay, Kiddo. Time for more trick or treating."

When Johnny didn't immediately respond with his usual grin, but instead looked over his shoulder at the woman with big, sad eyes, Gabriel felt almost guilty.

#

Castiel had already checked the men's restroom, only to find it was empty. That left what was probably the smarter choice, the family restroom that really was unnecessary at an adults-only event. He knocked on the door three times and called through the door, "Dean, are you okay?"

The door opened, and Castiel found himself subject to scrutiny. Dean obviously wasn't sure if he had gotten his message or he was genuinely checking on him. The angel offered a small smirk to make it clear that he  _had_  gotten the message. This was not the time to point out that it had actually been Sam who pointed out the goal of this little meeting. Castiel liked the idea of getting credit and he also feared the truth would "ruin the mood."

He stepped inside and Dean hastily snibbed the lock on the door. Castiel found himself shoved against the wall near the sink and his lover's reddened lips against his. His hand moved instinctively to Dean's hair, only to find the wig a barrier to the short brown locks he enjoyed curling his fingers in. It took several seconds of mouths meeting and tongues twisting for either Castiel or Dean to realize the wig had come away in his hand.

"Wait, does that mean the costumes can come off now?" Dean asked between panting breaths.

"Perhaps. Though we have nothing to substitute them with," Castiel answered as Dean dropped to a knee and began unbuckling one of the shoes.

"Well, these have to go, at least. I'm not used to this height difference between us, and they're throwing off my balance." Castiel looked around the room; balance was certainly something they would need. The only surface in the room was a baby changing area that did not look like it would support the weight of a grown man, and there was no small stall that would allow them each to brace against a wall to do this. (They hadn't done something like this before, but Castiel's imagination had been going wild since he first watched Dean rinsing himself off after a hard day of working on cars at the garage months before.)

"I wonder if the make-up can come off, too," Dean said, "or if the costume's the only thing. Like Gabriel actually considered that some of us have to piss once in a while."

Castiel grabbed a paper towel and wet it while Dean switched feet, gleefully letting one of his heels slip off onto the floor. He stopped his partner in his work and gently tilted his head up to wipe at his painted face. There was no change. "Just the costume," he said.

"Thanks for trying," Dean said as he kicked off the second shoe and looked up at the angel from his place on the floor. His breath was warm, tickling against Castiel's nearly naked body, and the angel didn't think he could be blamed for the thoughts going through his mind at that moment.

"Are you wanting me to do something while I'm down here?" Dean asked, rubbing his right hand over Castiel's outer thigh. "I make no promises, but I'm willing to try."

"You don't... you don't have to."

"Let me rephrase that, then. I want to try." Dean's other hand found a similar spot on Castiel's other thigh and together with its partner, it began sliding upwards to the band of the large white underwear that served as his costume. Castiel watched as a soft pink tongue darted out between bright red lips and bright white teeth followed to bite the bottom lip as he slowly pulled the briefs down.

He shivered but watched as Dean slowly inched the fabric over his hips. For most of the night, Castiel had been waiting for this side of his lover to surface, that man who is incredibly confident in himself when it comes to his own sexuality. Whether it was because they had watched of the movie, that they were alone together, that the wig and the shoes were gone, or because the alcohol had taken enough effect... it didn't matter. Dean was able to give him that self-satisfied little look as he wrapped a hand around Castiel's penis.

Another swipe of the tongue and then Dean leaned forward and pressed his lips to the head of the angel's penis. It made him shudder and slam back against the wall. His tongue moved slowly over the slit, and Castiel's knees trembled. His hands were at a loss for what to do. He didn't know if Dean would want him to touch his hair, if he should keep his hands flat against the wall where they were now.

He looked down to find wide green eyes looking up at him and those reddened lips wrapped around Castiel. The angel could only close his own eyes and moan, then whine when the mouth left him with a soft popping noise. "Shh. The bartender's still out there."

"I will do my best," he said, but trying to keep quiet would be nearly torture.

"And you can touch me, you know."

"How—"

"Your hands keep twitching against the wall. Kind of a tell they want to be doing something else."

Given permission finally, Castiel outstretched his left hand and gently carded through Dean's hair, then allowed his fingers to tighten ever so slightly. Dean winced, but didn't object. And when he moved his mouth forward, Castiel knew Dean had no complaints.

Castiel was lost in the sensation of Dean's warm, wet mouth surrounding him. His hands curled tightly in Dean's hair and it took every ounce of restraint not to adjust the pace according to his own needs rather than what Dean was comfortable setting. His fingers stroked over the man's brown hair as he moved his mouth down. His tongue, his lips, they were doing remarkable things to him.

"Dean," Castiel gasped out. "Touch me."

Hands began moving over Castiel's body, over his thighs, following the line of his hips and ending with cupping his balls. His knees began to give out as he took in the sensations of wet, warm, pressure, touch. Then finally, a steadying hand returned to his hips and pressed him solidly against the wall.

Castiel's hand tightened in Dean's hair as he continued to fight the instinct to move his own hips, to move his lover's head. He moaned again and very nearly called out his name before remembering there were people, or at least one person just outside. He moved his head back and asked, "How do you want to do this? I can keep going or we can..."

"I won't last long," he said, "but I want to..." He wasn't sure how to say what he was thinking. "I don't want to like this. I want to... I want you to..." He could barely think, or breathe.

Dean looked up at him. The muscle in the side of his jaw twitched as he seemed to struggle to find something to say. He licked his lips and his eyes moved down the length of Castiel's body, then back up at his face. "Okay," he breathed out.

With a glance to the wall, Castiel sought out the dispensers mounted there for something to make this easier. He was largely powerless now, and he knew Dean wouldn't forgive himself if he hurt him. Castiel didn't really want to experience the pain, either, if he were being truthful. It appeared they had two options, soap and baby lotion. Though there was a dispenser for baby wipes and changing pads, they would be of little help for what they had in mind. Castiel was opting for the lotion, because he had no desire to experience an antibactiral hand soap if he had an alternative.

Dean was already well ahead of him, standing from his spot on the floor and pressing against the button for the lotion to get a sufficient-enough amount for their purposes. "Are you sure?" he asked once he had a hand full of the pinkish substance. "We haven't done this with you powered down before."

"Then, perhaps it is time," he said, pulling Dean close enough that their lips nearly touched. "Unless you think that I am reluctant to feel you pound into my body roughly against this wall while I am in a state that makes it certain I will feel the reminder of it for some time."

With a growl, Dean's lips were on his. It was bruising, the force with which he pressed against Castiel, the way his tongue demanded to be allowed in. The angel knew the added taste in Dean's mouth, unfamiliar in the hundreds of times they had done this was his own, and that knowledge did more to drive him on than deter him.

When they parted, Dean was panting, his still-covered chest pressed against the angel's bare one. "Fuck, Cas, you're getting too good at the dirty talk."

With a grin of pride, Castiel kicked the briefs to the floor and he watched intently as Dean slid down his body. The man's mouth found the tip of his penis again, and that same overwhelming feeling threatened to send him to his knees. It was too much, too strong, and so wonderful. It was pleas-oh-please-more and if-you-don't-stop-I-will-be-undone. Dean's hand guided Castiel's left leg onto the man's strong shoulders, and then Dean's thick fingers sought out the spot between his cheeks and found it with practiced ease, even if their current roles were normally reversed.

"If I don't last," Castiel said, between shuddering breaths as one then two fingers breached him, "I don't want you to stop."

"I'm not sure I could," Dean said, placing a kiss to Castiel's hip as his fingers explored further. "Did I ever tell you about this girl I dated when I was nineteen?"

"I understand that I am not well versed in human customs, but I don't believe this is the best moment to tell me about your past conquests," Castiel said with a grunt.

"But it kind of is. She made me wear her panties. And I liked it."

"Wearing that," Castiel managed though he groaned softly as a third finger began working its way inside, "is getting you excited."

"Wouldn't want to do it all the time, but right now, yeah, it is."

"Dean," he said, past patience to wait much longer, "I'm ready."

Still, his lover didn't stop, but opted to torture him longer, licking the head of his penis just lightly enough to make the angle shiver. "You you say, but you know, I've been watching you, behind thoes glasses you  _still_  haven't taken off. You can't take your eyes away from my mouth right now, either."

"Do you blame me? It is doing some remarkable things." The fingers finally left Castiel's body, and he keenly felt their absence.

"And it's not..." Dean lowered Castiel's foot to the ground so that he could stand. "...because I'm all dolled up?"

"Do you want it to be?" Castiel asked as he watched Dean lower his black underwear just enough to allow his penis to spring free from the confines.

"Not necessarily," Dean said. "But if it gives you a thrill, I'd do it once in a while."

That prospect was far more appealing than the reddened lips that were little more than a novelty to the angel. Dean willing to make Castiel happy. It was still overwhelming to think there was someone who wished to place his needs and wants first. He had to kiss him again for that.

The moments after that passed in a blur. Heated flesh pressed against similarly warm skin, rough fabric grazing, brushing, Castiel's legs wrapped around Dean's hips while his fingers gripped his hips and buttocks so tightly there would certainly be bruises until Gabriel returned his powers.

Dean filled him up, slammed him against the wall. Their lips met, they explored jaws and necks. They offered hushed words of love as they shuddered and arched and rolled against one another. Castiel's wings made their appearance known, despite the damper on his grace, and they cocooned Dean's frame in feathers that could not be seen.

As he'd expected, Castiel did not last long, but it took a few more slides up and down the cool tile walls before Dean was spent inside of him. He ached, and for perhaps the first time in their relationship, he understood how Dean could say that ache actually felt good.


	5. Let's Do the Time Warp Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the end of the night, a bit of fluff, some much-needed talk, and a little rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, this chapter is the last for this story. Up next for the boys, Thanksgiving and shifters. Thank you to everyone who has been reading this little continuation on Home in Motion.

When he opened the door to the bathroom, Dean hesitated when he saw a crowd of people flooding from the theater. They hadn't been that long. He and Cas had both been so riled up that what had seemed to take forever probably hadn't lasted more than a few moments. The movie couldn't be over, but there was definitely a break.

His costume was back in place, apparently a requirement of being able to leave the bathroom, but he tried not to lean on Cas as he walked with him. The poor guy was limping, and Dean could hardly help feeling guilty.

"Cas?"

"I'm fine, Dean," he reassured him, almost sounding exasperated at him. He looked confused at the movie-goers. "Did we miss the whole movie?"

"Intermission, I think," he said.

"Oh," Cas said thoughtfully as they worked their way to the bar along with countless others. "Do you think we missed much of the movie? Will I be able to follow it?"

"No more or less than you probably were before," Dean said. "We'll rent it or something." The angel smiled, and damn it, there were too many people here and the lines for the bathrooms too long to do anything about that smile. Seriously, his libido was not ready for Cas discovering his. He also wasn't too sure about the fact that Rocky Horror may become Cas's version of porn.

When Balthazar came along, hand up with palm out, Cas just looked at him confused. "Don't leave me hanging." Castiel looked to Dean and then back at Balthazar. He finally held out his hand to match Balthazar, requiring his brother to finish the high five. Sometimes, Dean thought, he didn't know how Cas could be so oblivious to pop culture while Balthazar was so much more aware of it.

Sam went to the bar and ordered several jello shots without acknowledging either Dean or Cas, at least until Dean tried to take one of the cups from him. He actually smacked at his hand and said, "No. These are all for me. I need to forget what it was you two were doing."

"Does everyone know?" Dean asked, looking from his brother to Cas. His partner gave him an apologetic look as he tilted his head downward and looked up at him and...

Fuck.

He was going to forgive him. In fact, he wasn't even going to be able to get mad at him with him looking at him like that. It was unbelievably unfair how the people he cared about could manipulate him like this. "I didn't understand at first that you weren't, in fact, ill. Sam was able to clarify for me."

"You asked..." Dean's brain stopped for a moment and he signaled to the bartender to get him some of the shots, too. " _Why_  did you ask? And why didn't you mention that?"

"I didn't ask, per se," Cas said, still giving him that damned look. "Sam clarified my confusion. I was worried you were actually ill. And I didn't mention it because I thought it might..." And then came the air quotes. "...'kill the moment.'"

"Yeah," Dean said, "it probably would have." He saw the relief spread across Cas's features and leaned forward to gently kiss away whatever worry about Dean's anger remained. He felt a warm hand press against his cheek, and it was only as they heard someone squeal at "how cute"they were that he remembered they were not alone, not even close.

Cas's hand slid down Dean's neck and found its place at his waist while his head rested against his shoulder. He'd forgotten how cuddly and desperate for physical contact the angel got after they had sex. And even if Dean hadn't moved beyond the point of being embarrassed by public displays of affection at least an hour ago, he would never have denied him this now. If Cas needed a little extra affection, then he'd get it.

"Why don't we head into the theater?" Dean's hand found Cas's hair and gently stroked it. It earned him a sound akin to a purr from his partner.

"What about your drinks?"

"We'll give them to Sammy. He looks like he needs them more than me." He shoved them down the bar toward the row of shooters in front of the taller brother.

They walked back into the theater with their arms firmly around one another until they reached their seats. Dean slowly eased his partner down and, when he winced, touched his cheek in the same soft way Cas had to him moments before. The angel leaned into the touch, but again reminded Dean that he shouldn't feel guilty for this, that he had enjoyed every moment.

Their "moment," which was probably more of a chick flick moment than Dean would want to admit, was interrupted by Metatron making his way back to the row of seats. He excused himself as he pushed by and found his spot. He looked, if possible, sourer than he had before. Dean suspsected it might have had something to do with the fact he'd come back to his seat alone.

"Where's your chipper other half?" Dean asked.

"He is off chatting up another Columbia," Metatron said.

"That's a little rude, isn't it?" Cas asked. "With you right here."

"Hardly," Metatron said as he sat down. "I know we haven't been nearly subtle enough in hiding this, but it  _really_  is just an arrangement of convenience."

"Right," Dean said.  _Yeah right. That look right there, that's why I kept the casual stuff to one night stands._

#

Sam was about to knock back another shot when he felt a small but firm hand on his own. "Enough, Sam. I know you're not comfortable in the gold shorts, and I know you're not happy with how much you know about what your brother was doing, but I'm cutting you off. I've been having a good time so far, but I won't if I'm worrying about you getting shitfaced."

She took the little cup out of his hand and finished it instead. "Your alcohol tolerance is high, and I know that, but you know what would be really awesome?" she asked as she placed her hands at either side of his face. "If you could just relax and let go on your own."

"Sorry," Sam said, feeling it acutely that he'd been, essentially, ignoring his girlfriend for most of the night. He turned his head to place a kiss to one of her palms. "Why don't we go back in and enjoy the rest of the movie?"

"That's what I want to hear," she said. Emma took his hand in hers as he slid from the barstool. They were on their way back when they saw Balthazar wandering aimlessly, searching through the crowd returning to the theater. For probably the first time that night, he didn't look at ease, but for the first time that night, Sam realized, he was alone.

He exchanged a look with Emma and they made their way to the sequined angel. "Balthazar," Sam said as he placed a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Balthazar looked at him, startled. "What?" He continued to scour the crowds. "Have you seen Metatron?"

"Could he have gone in to watch the movie?" Emma asked, patting the angel on the arm.

"Maybe," he said. "I was talking to another Columbia. They wanted a bunch of us to pose for a photo, and then he was gone." Sam watched as Emma guided him into the theater like a child that had lost its mother. He wondered at what point those two would finally realize they weren't just doing this as friends anymore. Sooner or later, they'd have to admit they weren't just in this to fool around, but he suspected it wasn't going to be today.

Once they were in the theater and had returned their lost angel to the really irritated-looking one on the far right, Sam settled into his seat beside Cas. He tried very, very hard not to roll his eyes at the two of them because they both looked happy enough for him to be happy for them, even if they were like a couple of teenagers. Dean had his arm around Cas's shoulders, and the top of the angel's head was against his cheek. Sam wasn't sure how long it would last, with all of the yelling and fun still to come, but considering everything they had done during the first part of the movie, he wouldn't have been surprised if they didn't manage to make this a real date night, underwear briefs and fishnets included.

He looked over at Emma, who was fishing through her goodie bag for whatever was next in the movie and was grateful that his crappy attitude was not dampening hers. He decided he needed to get out of his funk and enjoy what was left of the night with her. If Dean could get comfortable in a pair of heels and makeup, Sam could rock a pair of gold shorts.

#

When Gabriel zapped everyone back to Bobby Singer's house, he had to admit some surprise that the ones most angry at him were not the hunters or their mates but it was Metatron and Balthazar. He'd thought the night might be good for them, not to mention keep them from coming to the Winchesters' rescue, but it looked like it had made matters worse. Their relationship seemed genuinely strained for the first time in the century or so they had been more or less inseparable.

He'd returned them all to their usual clothes: Olive green, tan and flannel for the brothers, a sweater and jeans for Emma, linen for Metatron, and a low-cut V-neck for Balthazar. Dean had quickly hurried to the stroller and Johnny and he quickly pulled the little boy close to his chest and told him how much he had missed him. Johnny had sighed contentedly and said, "Dada, Taddy," and something that sounded a bit like "home."

"That's right," Cas said, as he ran his hand through the mop of strawberry blond hair. "Home."

"Since I'm hoping you could use a little more time to cool down, your powers are all still dampened," Gabriel said. "I'm hoping you can all look back on this and laugh, you know, before you start trying to use your powers to try to kill me."

Dean glanced in the kitchen at the giant bag of candy on the table. "I hope you aren't palnning on taking all of that with you."

"That's your share," Gabriel said, and he smirked at the doubletake that Dean gave.

"Apparently no one can resist baby Thor," he said to Johnny, earning guaranteed laughter.

Gabriel leaned close enough to whisper in the ear furthest from Johnny. "I put the costume in your dresser, too. After you used it to defile my brother, I'm not really wanting it back." The hunter turned bright red, and Gabriel knew he'd done his job.

"Now to return the rest of you from whence you came." He snapped his fingers and headed first to Emma's apartment in her little Minnesota town. Heaven would come next, and he really hoped he hadn't spoiled everything for the two angels.

#

Balthazar looked at the bartop, grateful that Gabriel had, at least, decided to take them here when he dropped them off in heaven. Metatron was avoiding him, or rather, avoiding looking at him, and he didn't understand why. They had been friends for centuries, best friends for more than one of them. And for the last few months, well, Balthazar wasn't entirely sure what they were, but he thought it was working.

"Metatron?" he asked tentatively.

The other angel slumped on his barstool. "Balthazar, I don't know if I can keep doing this."

"Doing what?" Because Metatron had been upset about a lot of things tonight, including how angels had repeatedly manipulated him, how God had manipulated him, and Balthazar was worried he might be tired of being an angel. The prospect of being alone hit him like a bath in ice water.

"This  _thing_  we're doing," he said, still not looking at Balthazar. "You are my best friend, my only friend, and I can't take being angry at you every time you show a little interest in someone else." Balthazar started to tell him that there hadn't been anyone else since they started, and if he was being completely honest, he didn't want there to be; that he'd been able to get Cassie to understand how he felt about Dean because he had his own experience with falling in love with his best friend. But Metatron continued. "I think we should stop this sleeping together. It's making things too confusing. We work best as friends, without complicating it more."

Finally, Metatron looked him in the eye. "Do you hate me for asking that?"

"Couldn't hate you if I wanted to," Balthazar said, honestly. He forced a smile on his face. "If you want to take that step back, we'll take that step back. Just friends, no benefits but the usual sort."

#

"Should we try to get him to sleep in his crib tonight?" Castiel asked, though the separation of several hours from his son was making him feel a particular need to stay close to the boy at the moment. Since Gabriel had returned them just a few hours after leaving, rather than some time after midnight. Johnny seemed tired but not sleepy, and Dean suggested that they should watch a show on TV. Something about a Great Pumpkin.

They were now curled on the sofa, the angel between his lover's legs, back to his chest while Johnny spent most of the time watching the movie or climbing around Castiel's body. He pressed his legs together and set Johnny atop his knees to slide down to Castiel's chest and stomach. They repeated this action many times, as the boy cheered with each landing.

"He can stay with us for tonight. We just don't want this to be a habit." Dean plucked a pumpkin shaped lollipop out of the bag of candy and stuck it in Castiel's mouth while he went for a small chocolate bar in a red wrapper. He had only just snapped the candy in two when his cell phone beeped, signaling he had gotten a message. Castiel felt Dean squirm behind him as he fished the phone out of his pocket and read what was on its screen. "Bobby's sleeping over at Jody's again, so it's just the three of us again."

"That isn't such a bad thing, is it?" Castiel asked.

"Nope," Dean said, taking a bite of his candy while Castiel continued to suck on his own. "I wonder if I can work enough to keep this place once Bobby moves out."

"You think he will?" Castiel asked.

"We're out of town limits, and Jody has to be in them to be sheriff. Just makes sense for him to move instead of her. And if things keep going the way they've been with Emma, they'll have a place of their own eventually, too. It'd just be you, me and Johnny here."

Castiel mused at the man's tone, light and happy for the first time in a long time. "You sound far more accepting of that than I had anticipated you would be."

"I kinda am," Dean said, resting his cheek atop Castiel's head. "It's not like anyone would be going far, but with you and the kid, it isn't like I'm going to be lonely."

"I  _am_  afraid you are stuck with me."

#

"Sorry if I ruined your good time," Sam said as Emma stripped out of her sweater and into a nightgown. She knew he was watching her every move, possibly for signs she was mad at him, possibly for signs something else was going to happen tonight. He was so predictable.

The soft cotton slid over her frame and she glanced over her shoulder at him. "You livened up by the end," she said as she shimmied out of her pants and crossed the room to Sam, who was still wearing his usual layers. "You might not have loosened up to bathroom sex levels, but you  _did_  loosen up."

"So you aren't mad?" he asked and she pointed a finger at him.

"Don't even try those little sad puppy eyes on me." She poked him in the nose. "I'm not mad." When he seemed taken aback by that, she rolled her eyes and pulled him down for a kiss. "Considering everything that goes on in your life, I think it's okay for  _you_  to not be okay with something supernatural messing around with you. It's okay not to like being tossed into a situation where you're nearly naked and everyone around you is treating you like a sex object. It's okay to be frustrated with the fact that for a few hours, you were powerless to change your situation."

"That almost sounded rehearsed," Sam said with a smile as he leaned down to kiss her.

"Did it?" she asked. "I guess it was a pretty familiar speech for me. I've heard variations of it for years. Though it didn't usually involve gold shorts." She laughed, but he didn't. "That was a joke."

"You don't have to joke about it," Sam said as he cupped her face in his hands.

"I know," she said. "But I prefer to joke about it." She looped her fingers in the belt loops of his jeans as she backed herself toward the bed. "That's my way of keeping it in the past." Sam allowed himself to be pulled along with her. "Because in the present, a certain Rocky has far too many clothes."

Sam smirked, but she could feel him watching her for any sign that she wasn't okay. And maybe she wasn't okay and wouldn't ever be completely okay again, but she felt she was as close to it as she'd been in the last six years.

And she owed some of that to the man who was letting her slide his blue and white flannel shirt off his shoulders. He helped her with the matching blue T-shirt, and when it was finally over his head and on the floor, the way he was just  _looking_  at her nearly took her breath away. It was like he was  _seeing_  her, wholly and completely, and that a huge chunk of his world revolved around her.

"I love you," he said softly, tentatively as he leaned close enough that their foreheads nearly touched. "You are an incredible, brave, intelligent woman... who snores a bit and whose system of organizing looks more like mess to me." She smacked him lightly. "And I love you."

"I love you, too," she said. If she wanted to match his delivery, Sam didn't give her the option, as his lips were on hers the moment she said those four words.

#

"I think I messed up," Gabriel said as he walked into the bar.

"Why?" Chuck asked, looking at his son.

"You know what I did. I  _know_  you're omnipotent and are still hardwired to the brothers," he said, ordering a sweet drink from the hotel bar.

"I do," he said. "Dean and Castiel enjoyed themselves." He took a big gulp of Scotch at the memory. He hadn't really anticipated when he made himself the Winchester prophet that he'd also give himself an in-brain play-by-play of a sex life that included one of his youngest sons.

"I don't feel like Sam and Emma really got to let loose like I thought they would, and Metatron and Balthazar... I think this might have done something that can't be fixed."

"Sometimes," Chuck said, putting a hand on his son's shoulder, "happy days open up the opportunity for an admission that was a long time coming. That's what's happening with Sam and Emma. As for Metatron and Balthazar, what they have can only be maintained for so long the way it was. This just made it obvious to both of them." He gave the shoulder a comforting squeeze. "You need to think things through more often than you do, but I hope that you know you didn't break anything today, not permanently, and not anything that wasn't ready to break on its own."

Gabriel played with the straw in the glass of bluish liquid. "You know, for someone who was kind of crap at it for so long, you've gotten a lot better at this parenting thing."

Chuck grinned. "I hope so. And I hope you plan to share your Halloween haul with me. I miss Snickers and Milky Ways."

#

Johnny snuggled between his Dada and Taddy. They always did this whenever he was away a long time. It was warm and safe. They were both smiling, touching his head and his cheeks, wrapping his hand around a finger. Just like they always did. They kissed each other, then kissed Johnny.

He kissed them back, but he didn't know why they always wiped where he kissed right after he did it.

He snuggled against the soft green toy his Uncle Gabe had gotten him. His Dada called it "Hulk," but that was too hard to repeat. He'd had a really good time with Uncle Gabe, but he loved his daddies more than anything in the world.

"Happy Halloween, Johnny," his Taddy said.

"Trick or treat," he said in response, just as his uncle had taught him earlier.

His dada began laughing so hard it shook the bed and made Johnny laugh along with him. "Did he just say 'Tit or teat?"

Johnny tried repeating it to show that he'd  _actually_ just said "Trick or treat," and that his dad was hearing him wrong. It only made him laugh louder.

"Little guy," Dada said, kissing him again on the forehead, "you crack me up." That was a good thing, Johnny thought, so he didn't say anything else, just laughed along with him until it turned into a big yawn that both of his fathers returned. Johnny stared at his Taddy; he looked tired. That was weird, but then warm wings draped over him like a blanket. Maybe taddies were allowed to get sleepy sometimes, too.

Johnny felt his eyelids getting heavy. He was getting sleepy, and Taddy gave him one last goodnight kiss and one to Dada, too, before he turned out the light.


End file.
